Opposites Attract
by iiSarahJaxii
Summary: Romano is used to being treated by Spain like he was the most important person in his life. Now, he's trapped in a world where Spain not only looks different, but seems to hate him just as equally. Not to mention Arthur can cook, which is scary enough on its own without the poison. 1P/2P!Spamano with a side of England. (Will be updated over the summer because finals are coming up!)
1. Chapter 1

**~ Ciao ~**

**Jax, the editor, here! This Fanfiction is written by my best friend, Sarah, and I really enjoyed it so I wanted to share it~ It is quite pleasant to read and it's very amusing~ Anywho, it is Spamano so if you don't like it, then don't read it.**

**Alrighty then, enjoy~**

* * *

_(2P Spain and Regular Romano)_

Spain strolled on the cobblestones of a small southern Spanish town, his eyes drifting over the landscape as a soft wind tousled his hair.

"Spain?" A voice called behind him, sounding confused and irritated. "Antonio? Is that you?"

Spain ducked his head at the familiar voice, attempting to avoid a conversation with the Italian. His footsteps sped as he attempted a getaway.

"Spain? Cazzo, get your ass back here and tell me what's going on!" The voice rose at the same time of the tempo of his footsteps, "Bastard!"

Spain hesitated, hearing the obvious dislike in the other's voice- that didn't sound right, not like the Romano he knew. Cautiously he turned, wariness written over his features.

The Italian ran up to him, and Spain immediately noticed the difference. His entire posture was different, irritation clear in the tightness of his shoulders. The ends of his darkened hair fell into his eyes, and he brushed it away to reveal eyebrows that had lowered into what appeared to be a familiar expression on the boy's face. Only Spain knew from experience it wasn't familiar.

"Romano?" The Spaniard questioned, uneasiness rolling in his stomach. Something was wrong here. This was Romano, yet at the same time, it very much so wasn't.

"About time you turned around, asshole." Romano's voice was hard as flint, an unfamiliar tone towards Spain. "You're the only one around here I recognize, so if this is some sick joke, I suggest you spill now."

Spain frowned. "If this is some trick to get my attention…"

Romano threw him an incredulous look. "Why in the hell would I be trying to get your attention? You're thinking backwards."

Spain blinked. "Because you always have?"

Romano stared at Spain, a more irritated form of disbelief penetrating his stare. Slowly, his features transformed as the truthful tone of Spain's words sunk in. "Where am I?" he whispered.

* * *

Romano sat quietly, his hands curled around a lukewarm cup of tea. His eyes would focus on the table and then flash up to focus on Spain's back, then back to the smooth tabletop.

Now that he looked more closely, he could see the differences between this Spain and his own. This Spain seemed darker somehow, not just in the way his hair had turned from warm chocolate brown waves to inky black strands. No, his body seemed weighted down even, his broad shoulders tighter and expression guarded. A smile seemed like a stranger to this Antonio's face.

"So," Spain pulled one of the kitchen chairs back with a scrape across the floor, falling into it with a muffled thump. "You say you're from another dimension?" The frown on the man's face seemed to suggest he didn't put much faith into the claim.

Romano threw the darker man a glare. "I don't see any other reason that I would actually like you."

Spain ignored the insult and pulled a hand through his hair, contemplating. "And all of us are different there?"

Romano nodded, sipping from the teacup. "Feliciano, you, I—all of the countries are different. Though you seem to think we come second. In my opinion, I'm pretty sure you're second. I don't see how any sane version of myself would willingly follow you around like a puppy without the sense to smell the obnoxious on you."

A dark eyebrow rose over Spain's face. "You certainly are…. Different."

Romano snorted. "I don't particularly care of your opinion of me. I'd just like to get home."

"So you can get back to me admiring you?" Spain sneered. "Are your feelings hurt by me ignoring you?"

Romano expression turned dark, and he stood abruptly from the table, nearly slamming the teacup onto the smooth wooden table. He tossed it into the sink that was overflowing with dishes without even looking. "So where is the pathetic version of me that follows you?"

"Hopefully far away," Spain frowned, pushing his own chair back to follow the Italian without entirely sure why he was doing so.

Romano rolled his eyes. "Geez, so I'm stuck with you here?" He threw a glare over his shoulder.

Spain shrugged. "It's my house. If you don't want to be here, then just get out."

A click echoed through the home, and both the men silenced. Spain's eyes flickered to the face of the Italian, dangerously closed off. The mouth of a gun was pointed dead center at the dark man's forehead.

"You are going to help me find my way back, whether you like it or not." The edge in Romano's voice was sharp as steel. "I want to get back, even if that means I'll end up stuck around that happy bastard of Spain all the time. Why? Because it's my Spain."

Spain narrowed his eyes. "And if I don't?"

Romano's smile was more dangerous than the glare he had on moments before. "Then you get to meet the bullet currently loaded in this gun."

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**So, how is it so far? Not too shabby I hope~ Anyways, enjoy the next chapter!**

**Reviews please and thank you~**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: Both Sarah and I do not own Hetalia because if we did, things would just get out of hand~**  
_

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_(2P Romano and regular Spain)_

Romano skipped along the Spanish coastline, enjoying the breeze that carried a slight briny edge to it. A smile spread onto his lips, the sun lighting his blond hair.

"Romano? Hey, you didn't tell me you were coming to boss' house!"

Romano spun around, his entire expression lighting up at the sight of Spain. "Antonio!" He launched himself at Spain, who barely managed to enclose his arms around him enough to catch him without getting knocked over. As it was, he had to take a couple heavy steps back to keep his balance.

"Lovino?" The confusion in Spain's voice was evident. While the warmth in his arms was more than welcome and settled him slightly, it was uncommon. Usually Romano attempted to squirm away from him.

"Spaaaaain~" Romano pulled away with a smile, only for it freeze on his face. He stumbled and pulled away from the taller man with a strange choking sound escaping from his throat. "You're not…"

Spain tilted his head. "You're Romano, yet you're not Romano."

Romano tilted his head. "You're Spain, yet you're not Spain."

"Huh," they said in unison.

* * *

_(2P Spain and Regular Romano)_

Spain kept glancing with narrowed eyes back to the strange man next to him. He looked so much like Romano, the same handsome Italian features altered into an unfamiliar form. The blond hair had melted into a dark brown, the sunny smile turned down into a deep scowl. This Romano was not the same, and this one was dangerous.

Just the way he liked things.

"How much longer until we get to that eyebrow bastard's house?" Romano glanced around irritably, like the home of the Englishmen would suddenly crest over a hill in the distance. Romano rested his elbow on the window edge of the passenger side of the car, his hair ruffling slightly in the wind made by their speed coming through the open window.

"However much longer it takes to get there." Spain replied with a smirk, reveling slightly in the dark glare this other Romano threw his way.

"I'm not laughing, bastard," He craned his neck to see further ahead. "Can't you go any faster?"

"You seem to be in quite the hurry." Spain teased, throwing a joking grin his way that had just a hint of a dangerous edge to it.

Romano rolled his eyes. "I'm not particularly fond of your company."

The Spaniard glanced at the gun resting in the Italian's lap, the man's finger curled slightly around the trigger. It seemed like he was relaxed, but Spain guessed that if aggravated, the barrel would be up in moments without hesitation. "So you've made clear."

* * *

"Finally!" Romano's posture shifted in an instant, suddenly straight as he caught sight of the English castle rising over the hill. "About damned time." He seemed smug despite no involvement in the journey. Spain rolled his eyes, glancing cautiously at the handgun that was suddenly in a firm, sure grip.

"I'm going to warn you right now not to eat that man's food." Spain cautioned as he glanced at the stone walls carefully constructed into an impenetrable fortress.

Romano rolled his eyes, opening the door to the small rundown European car with a pop! "Yeah, yeah, eyebrows can't cook. I got that." The door shut as Spain opened his mouth.

The Spaniard pursued the Italian up the drive, alternating between irritated glances at him and cautiously guarded ones at the castle. "No, England can cook just fine – quite well actually. He just likes to… add things."

Romano hesitated, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "Quit stalling and spell out what you mean, bastard."

Spain ran a hand through his hair. "England puts poison into what he cooks. He'll probably try to kill you, just because he can." He glanced at Romano from the corner of his eye. "Whatever you plan to say to him, I suggest you get it out quickly before he decides that you won't take his hospitality and goes after his old pirating sword."

Romano turned towards the castle with a scowl. "Everything around here really is different, isn't it?" Spain could hear the click of the Italian loading a bullet into the chamber of his gun.

"I believe it may be better to say that everyone is different." Spain swiftly strode past Romano, picking up the heavy metal door-knockers.

* * *

**Dun dun dunnn! That's right! Next chapter, you'll get to meet our lovely 2P!England. I don't want to say too much but I hope you enjoyed it thus far~**

**Reviews would be appreciated~**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Yes yes, Sarah and I do not own Hetalia.**

**Enjoy~**

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_(2P Romano and Regular Spain)_

Romano sat hesitantly in the quaint kitchen, looking around with hesitance and curiosity. Everything was so much…. Brighter. The entire kitchen was composed of soft yellows and blues and other colours. Romano couldn't see the Spanish swords Spain usually had hanging on the wall. Despite the much more safe and comforting atmosphere, he sort of missed the sharp steel X of his childhood.

"So you're sending a message to check where your Romano is?" Romano pursed his lips, slightly jealous of the panicky look on Spain's face. How could his other self pass this up?

Spain ran a jittery hand through his hair, holding a phone to his ear with the other. "Si," He let out a shaky breath. "I get the feeling that for whatever reason you're here, it might have swapped Romano too. I don't think there could be two of you at once."

Romano picked at the edge of the table with his nail. "You're really worried for him."

Spain nodded, even though Romano had not posed it as a question. The man sighed as he placed the phone back in its cradle after the call hit voicemail, turning back to the Italian with a strained smile. "I'm sure your Spain is just as worried about you."

* * *

_(2P!Spain and Regular Romano)_

When the door opened on England, Romano had to press his lips in a firm line so as not to laugh, as he figured that wouldn't go over very well with the Englishmen. Not to mention it didn't fit his personality.

But England had pink hair.

"Espana~" A bright smile lit up England's face. "How are you today? Come in, come in," he attempted to gesture the dark Spaniard into his home.

Spain placed a restraining hand on the other man's arm. "England, now really isn't the time for whatever attempted murder you have hiding behind the door. We have a problem."

"Problem?" The pinkette's impressive eyebrows rose a fraction, and the man's gaze finally flickered over to where Romano stood, fixating an incredulous expression on Spain. "Ah,"

Spain frowned. "Arthur, you know the most about inter-dimensional travel." The man's gaze flashed back to Romano for a moment. "I need your consultation on something of the subject."

England stared at Romano in unrestrained curiosity. "Indeed,"

Romano rolled his eyes. "I'm right here, you know. Just because I'm from another dimension doesn't mean I can't hear you." He threw a glare at England, swatting away that hand that reached forward to poke him.

"He's real," England's eyes were wide like a child told a bedtime tale.

"Damn straight," Romano huffed.

With one more scan of the strange Italian on his doorstep, England turned and disappeared into his home, leaving the door wide. "Follow me,"

The Spaniard and the Italian threw cautious glances at each other before following the Englishmen into the drafty main hall.

"So," Arthur rushed back and forth across his kitchen, various cooking ingredients spread across the counters. "You claim to come from a dimension in which we are all, basically, opposites of our current selves?"

Romano rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to insult the man about his lack of hearing considering he had just said that. "Yes," he gritted to word out between his teeth.

"Hmm," England placed a contemplative hand to his chin, smearing some flour there like what was spilled down his entire frilly pink apron. "So, we are to assume the other Romano has been switched in your place. With this, since I am familiar with him I should be able to place his location and possibly swap you two back to your rightful places. Cupcake?"

Romano shot a harsh, dark glare at the Englishmen's fifth attempt at offering him a cupcake that the Italian had just watched him poison minutes before. At the look, England lifted both his hands up in a complacent gesture.

"Arthur," Spain interrupted the silent exchange. "You really think you can get our Romano back? How soon? How easily?"

The pinkette threw a playful grin at the Spaniard. "Eager to get him back, are you?"

Spain glared. "Hardly. If I'm eager for anything, it would to be rid of this motor mouth."

Romano rolled his eyes, starting to become accustomed to this closed off Spain. "Just answer the question, eyebrow bastard."

"Eyebrow bastard?" England's expression was amused. "You are most definitely not our Romano."

"Answer," Romano said tightly, and Arthur rolled his eyes. Did neither of these men have any sense of humor?

"Getting to the other dimension might serve somewhat of a problem, as I've never travelled there before. However, as both Romano's obviously must have recently passed through the doorway there, it shouldn't be too difficult to find." The Englishmen slid another tray of cupcakes into the heat of the oven. "Considering the other Romano actually belongs here, I should be able to return him. However, I'm not sure if I'll be able to get this one back to his dimension." He turned to face the two men sitting on the bar stools on the other side of the counter.

Romano scowled. "So I'm stuck?"

England shrugged. "Unless your own England comes for you, essentially yes."

The Italian ran a hand through his hair. "There are no other options?"

England looked up, pondering the question for a moment. "Not unless you want to risk being stuck in a space between dimensions for, well, eternity."

Romano dropped his head onto the countertop with a groan. "Great…"

* * *

**Ahahaha! I will never get over the fact that 2P!England's a pinkette! But yes, poor Romano is stuck unless England decides to be generous and help...though that might not be happening. **

**Hope you enjoyed it! **

**Please review~**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 of Opposites Attract! Lots of England in this chapter since Sarah just loves him~ Also, since it is the summer, it will be harder to update quicker since we will be travelling a lot. Just wanted to let you guys know!**

**Anyways, enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: We do not own Hetalia.**

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_(2P!Spain and Regular Romano)_

"So what?" Romano asked as he watched the strangely cheerful England strap himself into a travelling backpack. "You're just going to pop to my dimension and grab your Romano?"

"That would be the idea, yes." Arthur's accent thickened with his growing excitement. "I thought I could do some sightseeing as well! I just wonder how different your world is. I'd right well like to see how my other self has been handling the great United Kingdom!"

"I don't know about this dimension's history, so it could be different. In my world though, you became the British Empire and took over just about the entire damn globe with your commonwealth. World cooking standards were dangerous for a while." Romano finished flatly.

The Englishmen's eyes were bright with excitement as they fixed on the Italian. "Really? What about my pirating days? Did I beat the right old snot out of smug Spanish pants over there?"

Spain snorted. "I highly doubt that."

"I didn't care much about what was going on back during those days." Romano lied as he was washed over with flashbacks of nights cowering under bedcovers in the dark, anxiously watching the sea as it rolled like a wild animal. The false note didn't seem to register with either man.

"Just get your damn British ass to this annoying brat's dimension and get our Romano, okay? I'm sick of your oversized eyebrows."

England laughed as though he had heard Spain sans all the insults. "You really miss him, huh?"

"Shut up,"

"You sound like an idiot when you deny what we both know is true."

"Says the man with pink hair. Go!"

England smiled and threw a playful wink at Romano before he started to fade. As he dissolved away, it appeared as though he was being wrapped up in feathered angel wings.

"Always one for theatrics, that one." Spain grumbled. He turned sharply and stalked off into the cold recesses of the castle, the click of his shoes echoing down the corridor. "I'm going to trash as much of this place as I can before he gets back."

The Italian rolled his eyes and settled himself on a nearby plush sofa chair. He was too anxious to join in Spain's potentially harmful pranks.

* * *

_(2P!Romano and Regular Spain)_

"I hate you? Really?" Spain asked in amazement, his emerald eyes wide. It seemed as though the Spaniard could not grasp this, despite it being the third time the alternate of his Italian underling had told him so.

The sunny haired male nodded, not at all irritated at the other man's dense nature. He was as enraptured with the older man as the Spaniard seemed to be with him. It appeared that no matter what version of Spain he was in the company of, Romano had endless patience and attention for.

"I adore you, and you just wish I would leave you alone forever. It's quite the deterrent, but I believe that Espana is worth it! I get the feeling that he, or you, or whatever the title is, doesn't actually hate me. He just comes across that way."

Spain nodded sagely, excitement sparking in his eyes. "That sounds just like my Roma! Oh, it hurts every time he turns me away, but he's just so cute when he acts like that! It makes me want to chase him."

The two hopelessly enthralled men grasped hands as they squealed (manly squeals, girly squeals would never do for such intimidating countries) at their reflected situations.

* * *

(2P!England and Regular England)

"Ugh," The darker version of the United Kingdom landed in the domain of his other self, some of the air in his lungs pushing out on impact. "Bloody hell," With one arm the Englishmen pushed himself to a sitting position, the other hand running through his pink tinted hair.

"Oi!" A voice called out to the country lying rumpled on the street. England didn't catch a glimpse of the other person before an arm hooked around his elbow hauled him up. Despite his protests, he was all but dragged to the curb.

Curb? Oh. He had landed in the middle of the street.

With a grateful smile the pinkette turned to thank the citizen that helped him, only to be faced with… himself?

The two Englands blinked in surprise, bright green eyes wide as they faced the opposite pair.

"What do you know!" The cheerful one exclaimed, breaking the spell first. (He had been more prepared for the encounter, after all.) "I've run into myself right off the bat! Well, I suppose that's a great way to tell how different the two dimensions are."

"What in the bloody hell are you rattling on about?" The blonder of the two demanded, a frown creasing lines in his face as his rather impressive eyebrows descended.

"Oh, so your Spain and our Roma haven't asked you for help yet? I'll have to note that you're a more useless version of myself."

The 1P England, despite having little to no idea as to what was occurring, still got the feeling he was being insulted. "Who are you and what are you doing in the UK!"

The pink haired man giggled. "In you," The wording seemed endlessly amusing to the man that the grumpier England had deemed to have a smaller brain.

"God damn it, answer the question!"

"Alright, alright," The pinker haired of the two tried to placate the other. "No need to throw a cow. You see; I'm a version of you from another dimension. I came here to find my world's version of Romano. From my observations, I've inferred that the two Romano's from our worlds have swapped places. So I came to get ours!"

The more emotionally disclosed of the two didn't seem to have been calmed at all. "And our Romano?"

The pink Englishmen blinked. "What about him?"

"Where is he? Why didn't you bring him?"

"Well, I wasn't entirely sure I could. He's not from the same dimension as myself, so—"

"Bullshit." The blond England interrupted, his eyes flashing dangerously. He hadn't been the British Empire for nothing, and well… he wasn't particularly fond of this so-called version of himself.

The more cheerful one pouted, the first expression other than happiness that the other England was sure he had seen. "Alright, fine. I just wanted to test if it was possible for both Romano's to exist in the same place at once! Just a small experiment."

"Risking their lives?" The man still standing all but growled at the male still in a heap on the ground.

The other shrugged.

Without warning, the blond England disappeared—no theatrics, just there one second and gone the next. The pinkette pouted in disappoint at the lack of effort his other self put into the action.

Oh well, he had to find his Romano. And if he was lucky, he might even get him back to their world in time to see his experiment through.

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**Oh dear...it seems as though 2P!England's quite the mischievous one. Unfortunately, I can't say what happens in the next chapter because it is Sarah's ideas and I edit/publish them so...even I have no clue what will happen next~ **

**Sarah was also in a bit of writer's block but managed to overcome it over the course of our vacation, however, if you do have an idea for the upcoming chapters, please do share! That'd be highly appreciated~**

**As always, please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: So sorry for the delay, guys! I had a hard time coming up with ideas for this story, and that put me down a little bit haha. But I'm back, and hopefully with this being a larger break between what has been a very busy summer, hopefully I can actually get something down for you people that are still here and vaguely remember what this fic was about. :'D Sorry the pace seems a bit slower on this one.**

* * *

_(1P!Spain and 2P!Romano, plus 1P!France and Prussia)_

"Spain~ Are you home?"

Spain looked up with some surprise flashing across his features, knocking the salt shaker slightly so it wobbled and almost fell.

"Oi! Dumkopf, come greet the awesome me!"

The blond Romano raised an eyebrow, leaning to the side in an attempt to see past Spain to the people in the entryway. "Who's that?"

Spain flashed Romano a fake smile before hastily getting up from his chair. "No one too important, I'll just ask them to come back later so we can talk."

Romano's eyes flashed as he came to a realization, his face lighting up in anticipation. "Ooh! They're other countries too, aren't they? I want to meet them!"

Spain opened his mouth to object, but the hyperactive blond was already pushing past him towards the new arrivals to his home. Spain sighed and drew his hand down his face. Who knew how this would end?

"Whoa! You're both blond!"

Spain grimaced and turned on his heel, sliding around the corner to the next hallway with his hand on the wall. France caught his eye over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow.

Prussia didn't seem to notice the startling resemblance to a certain Southern Italy of theirs. Instead, he confidently puffed out his chest in the way only he could. "I'm not blond! My hair colour is awesome!"

Although the Italian was turned away from him so he couldn't see his expression, Spain could still hear how he was unsure what to think of the Prussian in his voice. "I would have accepted that you had white hair and not blond... But I'm pretty sure awesome's not a colour."

Prussia stuck his tongue out at him. "It is on me."

Spain covered his face with his palm and stepped into the hallway, about to say something to end the conversation until Romano spoke again.

"That's not true! Spain is the most awesome! Or maybe England's cooking, when he doesn't poison it..."

Spain threw his hands up in the air in anticipation of what this would bring on.

France stepped forward, and Spain could almost swear he saw a fire in his eyes. "You... know my rival England? And you not only survived his cooking, but _like_ it?!"

Romano gave France a strange look, as though he was the strange one. "It's the best of all the countries."

Spain lunged forward to restrain the Frenchmen. "Francis, mi amigo, let us explain."

France threw Spain a wary look. "You haven't gone nuts off his cooking either, have you?"

"No," Spain assured with a quirk of amusement to his lips.

"Fine," France huffed, pushing past everyone and strutting to the kitchen with his held high, as only he could pull off.

The others followed, and they surrounded the kitchen table in order to discuss things after France had expressed his displeasure at Spain's accommodations and how he should really just get a castle, since even the old Brit had one.

After they'd all settled, Spain tried to collect his thoughts and put together how he'd convince his friends of the truth. After all, Francis was already eyeing Romano warily, so he could be a problem... Gilbert might be easier, considering all he was doing was leaning his chair back and attempting to balance a spoon on his nose.

"Antonio..." France encouraged, his eyes softening as he saw his friend's discomfort.

Spain ran a hand through his curls, sending a few askew. "This is going to sound crazy."

Romano popping himself up to sit on the kitchen's counter. "It _is_ crazy."

"True," Spain agreed, threading his fingers together before meeting the eyes of his closest friends and telling them the theory he had on the two Romano's. Gilbert even put the legs of his chair back on even ground to listen.

* * *

_ (2P!England and 1P!America)_

America really hadn't expected to come home to a half-naked England with pink hair tied up in his garden hose.

He had just gone out through a fast food drive-thru to fufill a sudden burger craving, and had just stepped out of his over-sized SUV to the sight.

"Hello!" The Brit smiled cheerfully, waving his hand that had been swaddled to his chest.

The American swallowed the mouthful of burger he had just bitten off. "...Hello?"

"I'm so sorry about this, I really am. You see, I intended to teleport to Spain's house, but my other self beat me there and tied me up in your garden hose! Would you mind undoing me?"

America blinked. "Well, a hero certainly can't leave someone innocent tied up."

England smiled wickedly. "Of course,"

The wider-set man strode forward and knelt before the other man, who he didn't notice was studying his face intently. He stared at the knots, trying to work them out, before he just gave up and ripped the hose in half. "There!" he grinned triumphantly.

England stared at him, mouth agape. "Bloody hell,"

America pouted. "You're upset? You said you wanted me to get you out."

The more wicked man shook his head. "Er, no, I'm grateful... it's just surprising to watch you just rip the hose like that..." He met the American's eyes. "You're rather strong, aren't you?"

America flexed, more than happy to show off his muscles. "Yeah, I guess."

England stared America down, and the taller man looked awkwardly and ruffled the hair at the back of his head. "What?"

"You don't seem to dislike me."

America gave the Englishmen a quizzical glance. "Why would I?"

England's eyes flashed, and he tilted his head to side. "I expected a different reality, I suppose it hadn't really sunk in that everything is opposite. It would only make sense that you would get on well with me, or something to that affect."

The man with glasses just looked confused. "What?"

The pinkette sighed, standing and brushing himself off, frowning at his bare chest. He and his other self had gotten into a fight in the vortex on the way over, and his shirt had gotten ripped off. Pity, he had liked that one. "I should be on my way. You know, places to go, dimensions to possibly destroy."

"What?"

"Nothing," The Englishmen turned away from the American and strode away from the spacious house.

"Wait!"

England turned expectantly.

"Would you... like to come in?" The taller man asked hopefully, blue eyes shining.

The older man glanced down the road almost wistfully, before sighing in defeat. "I suppose a visit couldn't hurt."

* * *

**Editor's Note: Hurray! Sarah's back in action! Thank you for your reviews though! She did take into consideration each and one of your suggestions, and she's grateful for them! Hopefully, she won't have too bad of a writer's block for the next chapter :P**

**Thanks again and please continue to review~ Adios!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: OMG THIS FIC IS MORE POPULAR THAN I EVER THOUGHT IT WOULD BE UGHHH FEELS I LOVE YOU ALL INTERWEB HUG!**

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_(2P!Spain and 1P!Romano)_

Romano had to wonder what the pirating days between England and Spain had looked like in this universe, considering the way Spain was ransacking his house.

Apparently he had a lot more experience with his axe.

"Take that you damn Brit! God damn you and your scones! AHAHAHAHA!"

Eventually the Italian had gotten too antsy to just wait around for England to return, and had followed the sounds of Spain's borderline maniac laughter.

"Spain?" He began cautiously, but instinctually jumped back when Spain startled him by throwing an elegant candelabra crashing onto the marble flooring. "Is making it look he got raided by elephants really necessary when he's helping us?"

The Spaniard fixed with a flat stare as he took a candle from where it was held aloft in the stand fixed on the wall, and held the flame to a magnificent tapestry until it caught. "Elephants? I am doing a _much_ better job than that. Ravenous fire monkeys, maybe, or fan girls when they discover their OTP is canon."

Romano shook his head. "What the hell does that last one mean?"

The ebony haired man stared Romano down, looking too grave and serious for the Italian to dare consider making a sarcastic comment. "It means the most dangerous beings you will ever encounter."

And with that the older country stalked past the other, pulling down a pair of swords crossed on the wall to slash through a set of old velvet curtains and a portrait of cocker spaniels.

"_Point is_," Romano stressed the words when he felt he was being ignored as Spain was gazing maliciously at an oil painting of Big Ben, "I don't really think we're repaying him very well here."

Spain turned around to face Romano with a snort. "C'mon, have a little fun for once." With that he threw the companion sword towards the Italian nation, which he deftly caught without breaking eye contact.

He hadn't been the underling of the great Spanish Empire for so many years for _nothing_, after all.

"Because slicing painting and lighting tapestries on fire is just _such a party_." Romano replied dryly, holding the sword limply.

"Yes," Spain replied, sticking his sword straight into the middle of the painted clock face without so much as a glance backwards, "it is."

The Italian nation raised an eyebrow, and eyed the black and white photograph of the London Eye that was framed on the wall.

* * *

_(2P!England and 1P!America)_

"...And this is my popcorn maker, and this is my microwave, and this is my snack cupboard, and this is..."

The golden haired man stopped his slightly overzealous tour of his kitchen with he felt himself tug to a stop. With a little confusion, he glanced down to see a pair of arms wrapped around his torso.

"Um, Mr. Pink England? What are you doing?"

"Pink England!" The British man giggled, and America could feel him nestling his face into where it was level with his back. "You're funny."

America gently removed the arms that encircled his stomach. "You're not like the England I know."

The pinkette pouted. "Of course not! That's the point. But this is bloody brilliant, my America is so irritating. He doesn't like anyone and he acts so villainous and it's so annoying to cook for him because he's a _vegetarian!_"

The American gasped in horror at the forbidden word. "_Vegetarian?_" his voice was a conspiratorial whisper.

The Brit nodded. "It's terrible. You're so much better." He giggled and pushed himself up onto his toes, running his fingers through the thick strands. "And your hair is such a pretty colour!"

America could feel himself flush a little at the compliments. "I suppose I am pretty great."

England beamed in response. "'Course you are," he entwined his arms this time around the American's neck, brushing a quick kiss across the other man's cheek. With that he scampered off into the kitchen giggling, leaving a sputtering blond behind. "I'll make cupcakes!"

* * *

_(2P!Spain and 1P!Romano)_

"Bloody hell! What're you doing to my house?!"

Romano spun around at the sharp British accent, only to gape a little when he realized that the England before him was blond.

"England!" He cried.

"Yes, that would be my name!" He snapped, green eyes narrowing at the Italian. "I know this isn't really my house, but that of my alternate, but did you really have to make it look like Francis' bloody _'art'_?!"

"Well," The Spanish man commented and he leaned against the sword he had, "we could always go ransack your house too, if you like."

"_Over my dead body you arse!_" He huffed and turned back to Romano. "C'mon, we should get you home."

The Italian muttered dryly, "So you noticed I was gone, did you?"

"Not exactly, more like had a showdown with my other self. Now get a move on!"

"What's got your panties in such a twist, pinkie?" Spain raised an eyebrow and began tapping the tip of his sword point again the stone floor.

"Oh I don't know, maybe just the possible_ end of reality._ No big deal. You just go back to your heathen pirate ransacking of a proper British home." He growled at the dark haired man before spinning towards the Italian and striding towards him with heavy steps. "Now let's go and get those prats out of our dimension before they wreak havoc like you have!"

"End of reality?" Romano asked, ripping his arm from England's grip with a scowl. "Cazzo, what do you mean?"

England huffed but began to explain in a snappish tone. "I don't expect _you_ to know much about dimensions, but dimensional travel is dangerous. I don't do it often because I can't stay long. Two of the same beings can't exist in the same place without causing unbelievable problems to that reality. I ran into the other England, who is mad as all hell by the way," England threw an accusatory glance back at Spain, as though blaming the demeanour of his alternate self solely on the country, "and _he_ plans to bring this dimension's own South Italy back as soon as possible to make as much chaos as he can with the two of you in one place. _I_ do not plan to let that happen."

Spain blinked. "Well aren't you a worrywart."

"I am not a worrywart!" England exclaimed in frustration. "I have been to other dimensions before and I've seen the results my presence causes! Other objects begin to disappear in order to make up for the extra space I create, and the country begins to spiral into chaos with two personifications to represent them. And that's only as long as I was there! The other England plans to keep this experiment going for who knows how long. "

Romano's face was impassive. "So we have to get both of our other selves back to this dimension, and stay in ours?"

"Yes," England exhaled, "preferably quickly."

"Alright," the Italian conceded, pulling his gun out from where it was tucked inside his jacket. "Better get to work." He glanced at the Spaniard. "Good luck with your Romano. If he's anything like my Spain, he must be a pain the ass."

Spain shrugged. "You too. This was... interesting, considering your disposition." Romano raised an eyebrow at that. "But I think it's time things returned to normal." His lips split into a wicked smile. "Even if you'll never admit you want your own Spain back."

Romano sputtered. "Only because he's significantly less homicidally inclined,"

Spain smirked. He had no idea how close he really was to that.

* * *

**Editor's Notes: Well, that's it for this chapter guys! Thanks for reading and of course, reviews would be awesome! Hope you enjoyed it :D**

**Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia or any of its characters!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: To the really huge 2P!England fans out there, I really want to apologize because I know he's been really OOC! I know he's supposed to be a lot cheerier, but I've been having trouble making him happy, while being one of the main villains, and also reconciling him with 1P!England. I'm actually not all that familiar with the 2P's, I've been spamming my editor for everything she knows about them. (Also why I've been slightly hesitant to introduce 2P!America.)**

**Anyways, to the story!**

* * *

_(1P!Romano and England)_

Romano stumbled onto the carpeted floor, losing his footing as England suddenly dropped the grip he had on his arm during the inter-dimensional travel. Romano cried out a "Hey!" and few choice Italian curse words, but the Englishmen ignored him as he stalked away, pivoting around he took in all of the room.

"This isn't right..."

The Italian climbed to his feet, shooting England a glare. "What exactly do you mean?"

The Brit wasn't even looking in Romano's direction as he scanned the room. "You recognize where we are?"

The brunette cocked a brow but took in the room around them for the first time since arrival. "America's place?"

Britain nodded. "We should have arrived at Spain's..."

The two men heard the sound of a muffled crash somewhere in the back of the southern styled home, and swiveled in the direction of the sound. Shooting each other a look, they took off into the depths of the house.

The blond rounded the corner first, and Romano slammed into him from behind. "What the hell?"

The Italian followed the Englishmen's gaze to where America was lying on the floor... with the other England straddling him.

The pinkette grinned. "Hello! Would you like some too?" He asked, smearing more icing over the lips of the very red-faced America.

America's eyes were locked on the blond England frozen in the doorway. "I can explain," he sputtered.

Romano stepped around England and into the kitchen. "America, whatever you do, don't swallow any of it."

The pinkette blushed and giggled. "That sounded a little dirty."

The look the original England gave his counterpart made Romano question how Britain hadn't invented a way to get looks to kill.

Romano pulled his shotgun out of where it was strapped to the inside of his jacket, the click of the bullet loading into the chamber echoing in the air. "Back. Away."

Then the alternate England did the last thing he expected – he burst into tears.

"I'm sorry!" He wailed, reaching up with both hands to wipe away the moisture running down his freckled cheeks. "I really do like all of you, but I can't help it! You think that killing people will make them like you, but it only makes them dead!"

The American's eyes widened. "Dead?"

The pinkette threw his arms around the taller man's neck and sobbed louder.

"Okay, okay," Romano said hurriedly, shoving his gun back into its holster and hurrying towards the distressed Englishmen. "It's alright."

The man hurled himself at Romano, limbs curling around him like an octopus. America hurried to the kitchen to wash his mouth out.

The three men circled the pink-haired man as his sobs quieted, and then England started to question him, his voice surprisingly soft. "But why?"

His alternate self sniffled. "Everyone is always trying to kill each other in my universe; it's just the way it is." His watery eyes lifted to meet the ones mirrored back at him. "I never actually stopped to think it would be different here."

Romano's voice was incredulous. "You're all murders?"

"You didn't notice?" He pouted.

The blond Britain sighed, running a hand down his face. "It doesn't matter. What's important is getting everyone back to where they belong."

The pinkette nodded from where he had his arms locked around Romano's neck. "I'll help."

He shook his head. "You can help by going straight back. I can return your own South Italy myself. The longer you're here the more damage is done."

As though the universe had been listening to his words, they heard a large CRAAAAACK! Outside. The four men rushed to the window to see the road splitting, the gap widening.

The alternate England shot them a panicked look before he departed with a small pop!

**AN: Bonus Points to the people that catch the AVPM reference!**

* * *

_(2P!Romano and 1P!Spain, France, and Prussia)_

"You're telling me there's an alternate universe where England's cooking is good?"

"Francis," Spain sighed, "is that really what you have to fixate here."

"It's impossible," France replied flatly.

"I disagree," The blond perched on the counter chirped.

"No, not you," France agreed. "You are obviously real and possible, and a fine enough specimen of an Italian man. With the resemblance, I can easily see how you would be an alternate Romano. I mean it's not possible that England's cooking could _ever_ be good."

Spain rolled his eyes. "Mi amigo, you should get rid of your grudges."

France's eyes flashed. "It is not a mere grudge! Non, it is a war of honour, a war of father's betrayed by sons, it is a war of..."

"Unresolved sexual tension?" Romano suggested.

The Frenchmen's head snapped around so fast the Italian could have sworn he heard it crack. "A WAR OF MURDEROUS INTENT,"

South Italy slid away on the counter until his back was against the wall. "That works too."

Spain cut into the conversation. "So, do you two have any suggestions?"

Prussia was back to attempting to balance the spoon on his nose. "We could ask England for help since he seems to know a little about weird travel angel stuff-"

"NEVER," France cut him off.

Spain rubbed at his brow line. "If he can help Francis,"

The aforementioned blond glared at the brunette. "We don't need his help. He's probably busy with tea and crumpets and whatever the hell else anyways."

"He's right." Prussia agreed.

The Spanish man glanced at him. "Why do you say that?"

Gilbert slid a pair of sunglasses onto his nose. "I'm awesome," he declared as he petted Gilbird.

Spain stared incredulously. "Where did you get those sunglasses from?"

France shook his head. "What I want to know is how Gilbird suddenly got here,"

"I'm awesome," Prussia said by way of explanation.

Romano tilted his head. "Does he do that a lot?"

"Yes," Spain and France said in unison.

Suddenly, a crash sounded through the room, most of its occupants jumping at the sound. Spain's eyes widened when he witnessed the sight of Romano, _his_ Romano, sprawled on his kitchen floor. "Looooooooooooovi~!" He cried, running to his underling and enwrapping him in a hug, which the dark-haired Italian shrugged off.

"Yooooooooooooou!" The two of them heard off to the side. Turning, they saw France pointing an indignant finger at the British man kneeling on the kitchen tile groaning. "You did something, didn't you?"

The Englishmen raised one impressive brow. "I brought Romano back, if that counts as something."

"No, I mean you did something to make things worse." The Frenchmen folded his arms, as though the mere thought of the other blond being innocent was atrocious.

"I've been trying to fix this entire bloody mess!"

"Well you obviously haven't done a very good job, have you?!"

"Bugger off, I'm the only reason this dimension is in any shape to even be holding this conversation."

"I knew it," All the men in the room turned to the blond Italian that had an appraising look on his face, "sexual tension."

The two arguing men turned into a sputtering flushed rage at the suggestion.

The brunet Romano gave his counterpart an appraising look. "You're... me?"

The blond sniffed. "I'm a much more fashionable and pleasant you, yes."

The Italian on the floor leaped to his feet, unintentionally knocking over the Spaniard that had been next to him. "Hey! Don't you dare say you're a better version of me when just coming here made everything fucked up!"

"What's the matter?" Spain asked quizzically. "You're back, Lovi, and now England can take the other Romano home to his Spain, si?"

"It's not quite that simple," England said gruffly, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he sent France a look as though daring him to interrupt. "We still haven't solved why this entire mess happened in the first place. It could have been orchestrated by someone else, or it could have been something wrong with the bridge between our universes. We have to make sure this doesn't repeat by accident."

"So I can't go see my Spain?" The blond Romano sobbed.

"No, you can go see him." England looked put out by the sudden tears. "I'm just saying that if we merely bring you back and let the whole thing be, it could just result in a repeat."

Spain pursed his lips, clinging to his underling again. "We have to make sure it doesn't."

England nodded. "I agree." He eyed the country huddled on the countertop. "Ready to go home?"

* * *

_(1P!Canada and ?)_

"The Maple Syrup!" Canada cried, lunging for the bottle that had just been swiped off the table. He was too late, and the golden liquid pooled onto the floor.

"Don't be such a baby," The figure scoffed, pushing lightly at the Canadian's head with a booted foot.

"Why would you do that?" Canada asked with dismay, kneeling and wrapping his arms around himself.

"You need to learn what's important around here," The opposite country leaned down, an ominous shadow over the other's cowering form. "You agreed to help me with this mess, you'll see it through."

* * *

**Editor Note: I apologize if I miss something whilst editing. Also, both of us apologize for how long it took to update! We hope you enjoyed the chapter~!**

**Reviews as always! Thank you!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: CONGRATS TO EVERYONE WHO GOT THE REFERENCE! You all made me very happy mentioning it, as my editor and friend doesn't know it, so thank you. As promised, you all get bonus points, which can be redeemed for your very own virtual tomato!**

**And extra bonus points to the person who got ?'s identity right! You'll know who you are when you've read the chapter. You get extra bonus points worth enough for virtual maple syrup! (Though I wouldn't recommend using it with the tomato.)**

**Now back to this strange collection of words and sentences called a Fanfiction.**

* * *

_(2P!Romano and 2P!Spain)_

Romano brushed at his clothes, running a hand through his blond hair. He was fidgeting nervously, trying to calm his nerves before approaching the small house that lied in the middle of the Spanish countryside. The other world's England had returned him here, but...

Sighing, he steeled his nerves. It didn't matter if Spain wasn't happy to see him. The older man never did seem to like having him around, so what did it matter now? He had to see him. He missed him, and he wanted to see Spain and make sure he was alright.

Trudging up to the door, he knocked, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited, anxiety rising. He quickly forgot it at the sight of the face that appeared by the recently opened door.

"Spain!" He gasped at his appearance, the breath knocked out of him for just a moment, before he surged forwards, hands flailing about frantically. "Your- You're!"

The brunette caught his underling's flailing hands and halted him. He tried to soothe over the obvious distress the dark bruise on his cheekbone had caused. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch I got up at England's when I was..." his lips twitched, "redecorating for him."

South Italy stared intently down at their grasped hands, and clutched them tighter before meeting his eyes. "I missed you."

Jerking his head to the side and pulling his hands from the smaller man's grasp, the former pirate stormed back into his house. A grin bloomed onto the Italian's face.

He was back.

* * *

_(1P!Romano, England, and Bad Touch Trio)_

"Why are you asking him for help? He's just going to order us around and act superior." Romano muttered, put out. He heaved himself onto the countertop and planted the bottoms of his feet against the cupboards without regard for it being Spain's house.

"He's my underling, and if I should so feel that he can help us," England replied calmly, "then I see no problem in asking him to lend a hand."

The Italian rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Lend a hand? He'll try to commandeer the entire thing."

The Brit angrily slammed the telephone receiver down. "Then what do you bloody suggest?"

"Don't you have another underling?" Spain suggested, trying to calm the two "tsundere" countries. "You could ask him for help. You were an Empire once; you have more than just America you can ask to help you when needed."

Britain raised one massive eyebrow. "Australia?"

"No, that other one." He replied pensively.

"New Zealand?"

"No."

"India?"

"I don't think so."

"The African colonies?"

"No, I'm almost positive it was North American."

The two European men slumped into chairs around the quaint kitchen table, unable to find an answer.

Prussia rolled his eyes. "You mean Canada?"

England snapped his fingers. "That's it!" He turned to Prussia. "How did you remember? I completely forgot about him."

Prussia again put on the sunglasses from earlier. "One," he said, holding up a single finger, "I'm awesome. Two," he lifted a second finger to accompany the first, "he named a city after the awesome me."

"You better not be moving in on my underling," England warned scathingly, and before Prussia could reply, France had jumped in.

"He's my underling too!" He huffed, "And besides, why do we need one of England's colonies to help? He's got an empire; if we really need help can't we just ask them all for a little info or a hand here and there? I think we can handle this on our own."

As though to punctuate his words, the men all heard a sharp crack outside. Glancing out the nearest window, they could see a fissure running from the shore towards the house. With another crunch, it lengthened, like a bony finger reaching towards them.

Romano leapt off the counter, landing deftly on his feet. "I thought all the alternates were gone!"

England's expression was grave. "Apparently we were wrong."

* * *

_(1P!Poland and Lithuania)_

"Warsaw is the capital of the world!" Poland declared as he stepped up onto the back of a kneeling Lithuania.

* * *

_(1P!Canada)_

Canada scurried nervously around his home tidying things up, and glancing out his window with a fair amount of trepidation.

He wouldn't be alone for long.

The young country nearly jumped out his skin at the telephone ringing. He supposed it was good timing. If his guest was here, he may very well have ripped the jack out of the wall.

He was a man who preferred physical solutions.

"H-Hello?" The Canadian squeaked down the line, twirling and twisting the phone cord through his fingers.

"Canada!" The country would have recognized that crisp British accent anywhere. "Hullo there. Do you have any spare time on your hands? I was wondering if you could help us out with something's that come up."

"Us?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder out the window just to be safe that he wasn't being overheard. He could hear Papa France grumbling on the other end, saying something about only because he raised him too.

"Yes, there's been a bit of a problem with dimensional crossovers going on lately."

Canada couldn't withhold the small squeak of unease that left his mouth, and swiftly clamped a hand over his mouth to prevent any more from escaping.

"Canada?" His father's voice sounded curious, "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong." The Northern country's voice seemed much too high.

"Are you sure about that?" A deep voice sounded from behind him in the small cabin room. Canada spun around in panic to face the embodiment of his opposite, a hulking auburn man in a lumberjack's flannel shirt. His eyes sparked as he stepped closer to the smaller man, and Canada dropped the phone to skitter across the wood panelled floor, the distant voice of his father still drifting from the receiver.

* * *

**Editor's Note: Oh my goodness. I apologize for the wait as Sarah gave this to me 2 weeks ago, however, with the busy schedule I have, I didn't publish it until now. Sorry!**

* * *

**Author's Note: Yeah so... overdramatic chapter! Another cliffhanger- my bad. I know how we all have a love-hate relationship with those. I threw Poland and Lithuania in there as a tension breaker, and also because I love them and I AM THE WRITER AND I CAN DO WHAT I WANT.**

**On another side note, I pushed myself to finish this chapter a little early. Now don't get too excited! I did it because this year I want to try my hand at NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), and that will cause basically my entire life to be swallowed up in the month of November. For those of you who don't know, NaNo is where you try to write a 50, 000 word novel solely in the month of November.**

**Yeah, I don't know why I'm doing it either.**

**So, see you guys later! Keep shipping.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I'M A HORRIBLE PERSON **

**I knooooooooooow it's been a long time since this updated and half of you have me on alerts will be wondering "Wait, what's that fanfic? I don't remember putting it on alerts." And you are completely right to feel that way. I honestly got so busy with everything that I got used to not writing and forgot about this fic quite a bit, and when I remembered it, there was only roiling guilt inside my heart that made me want to curl up and hide from you all further. But! I did start this fic, and there may still be some of you waiting around or at least vaguely interested in figuring out how it ends, so I'm going to do my best to finish it. There are no excuses that are good enough to get rid of how long this took me, and hopefully I'll be able to keep to my own promises and actually have a semi-realistic update time for the chapter after this. **

**So without further ado, I turn it over to my editor and friend Jax (Thanks gurl you da bomb). She might want to leave a note IDK. If she doesn't then you'll just see the story under this. Also I bet none of you read this that's okay I don't always either. (Especially when it's this long.)**

* * *

**Jax: For those who didn't read what Sarah wrote, just read it for a long explanation as to why she went hiatus. A huge thank you to everyone who supported this, favourited it, reviewed this, followed this, or even just read Opposites Attract! We love you guys. **

**As always, we do not own Hetalia or the countries.**

* * *

_(1P!Romano, England and Bad Touch Trio)_

"Well," England's voice was saturated with surprise as he pulled back from the phone, the beeping of a disconnected call keening down the line.

Romano huffed. "I thought you said he was the _nice_ one. He sure seemed nice, hanging up like that when we needed help! Are all your kids brats?"

England pursed his lips. "Like you're one to talk when you've never raised any underlings and Spain did such a fantastic job of cultivating _your_ manners."

"Hey!"

"England," France cut in with a frown, "Did he really hang up? That doesn't seem like usual behaviour from _mon petit_."

"Hey isn't yours," England snapped back. "He is a fully sovereign nation with the ability to act independently to the rest of us."

"Well, he certainly didn't pick up most of his habits from you, _sourcils massifs_.1"

"I'm not sure what you just said to me, but taking past history into account I'm going to assume it was insulting and take offence."

"It takes that much just for you to figure out you were insulted and you're still not entirely sure?"

"_Why you_—"

"Okay I know you can't all be as awesome as I am, but unfortunately, even my own awesome is not enough to save Canada by myself. So wrap it up, ladies."

The Brit immediately rounded on Prussia, looking ready to go another round with him, but Spain jumped in. "Hey! I know that you're in a sour mood, GB, but we're sort of working on a deadline here."

"GB?" England was flabbergasted.

"Great Britain," Romano sighed.

Prussia frowned. "You know what, I'm leaving without all of you. You take longer than a woman before a date." He strode towards the door, Gilbird flying over to land on his shoulder, puffing up to ready himself for any oncoming adversaries.

"You leave before us and I'll tell Hungary you said that," France snapped and the Prussian suddenly froze, his bird nestling into the crook of his shoulder in fear.

"_Nein_," he whispered dramatically.

"Let's get out of here before the universe either collapses or we tear each other to shreds, yes?" England snapped, stalking into the hallway and shoving past the suspended Prussian.

"Someone's testy," France grumbled.

* * *

_(2P! And 1P!Canada)_

Canada sat huddled in the corner of his long couch, Kumajiro settled across his knees. He was nervous and scared, but there was a part of him that said it could be worse. Despite that the two men arguing across from him were genuinely massive in size, at least they didn't seem to be paying him any mind. He'd probably miss any of the violence they were throwing off in waves from their person. At least, as long as Kumajiro didn't feel like asking who he was again and bringing their attention back to him.

"You promised me!" The dark red headed one cried, clutching at the strands of hair falling around his sunglasses. "You promised that we'd find my alternate; that we'd take his power!"

"And we will," the other snarled, this other version of him that he couldn't relate to himself in a million years, "Just give it _time_."

"How much _more_ time?"

"As much goddamn time as I need!"

"Well could you possibly hurry it up, because I'm getting pretty hungry since there's absolutely nothing to eat around here."

"Oh fuck your vegetarianism."

"_Excuse me!_"

"_I'm your brother, not your goddamn nanny!"_

_"It's not my fault I can't eat raw moose like a savage!"_

_"You're seriously pushing your luck if you want me to help you!"_

_"Yeah, because you've been so helpful this far!"_

His opposite suddenly spun around, pinning his brother to the wall. "Shut _up, _America."

The mask of anger fell away from the country's face, a vulnerable look of frustration and desperation taking its place. "I'm just worried we'll run out of time, Matt. You don't know anything about inter-dimensial travel besides what you got out of Dad when he was drunk and there's probably a lot of holes in what we know. What if we stay too long and can't go back? What then, Matt?"

The other country pulled back slightly, his face going from inches away to a comfortable distance; the tight grip his fingers held on his brother's shoulder softening. It was the closest that the smaller Canada had seen his tough, plaid-wearing, axe-bearing, lumberjack self come to softness. "Trust me, Al. We'll get what we came for."

He shivered at those words and the undercurrent they held. Kumajiro pushed his nose into the space between his knobby knees and Canada patted his head softly.

Suddenly his alternate turned his head towards him and Canada shrank back into the couch, his smaller frame feeling weak and useless in the face of this towering, violent giant. "You got a way out of here, kid?"

"Wh-what do you mean?" His breath caught in his throat.

The American alternate snorted. "It's called a _car_. I know it's remote up here, but geez."

The other Canada let go of his brother's shoulders, striding towards the door. "Like you're one to talk. Your country is so freakishly eco-friendly that I'm surprised you know the word car."

The original Canada startled involuntarily at that. A world where his brother's people barely drove? What a strange place indeed.

"Now," The lumberjack-like Canadian gave a wicked grin to the other two men occupying the room with him. "Shall we let the others know we're here?"

* * *

_(1P!Romano, England, and Bad Touch Trio)_

"Yay! Road Trip!" Spain spared a glance off of the road for just a moment to grin at Romano through the rearview mirror. His underling glowered.

"It's my car," he muttered. "I don't understand why I couldn't drive."

"Me either!" Britain cut in.

"Because," France said, turning to face them from his place in the passenger seat and pointing at Romano, "_You_ are Italian," he switched the finger to England, "and _you_ drive on the wrong side of the road half the time."

"My driving's fine!"

"This is a car, not a pirating galleon!"

"Have you looked at your bloody traffic circles?"

"Hey!"

"I thought we weren't letting France drive because he would be too busy fighting with England to drive?" Spain asked.

"_Pardon?_" France snapped in a heavy French accent.

"You wanker!" England chimed in.

Romano put his fingers to his temples to stifle a headache. Prussia cradled Gilbird in his hands from where the bird wanted to jump out the window and race the car.

"Why can't we just teleport again?" The Italian muttered, slumping lower in his seat.

"I'm worried the universe is too unstable to handle a lot of jumping right now." England explained, "I'm hoping to drive as close as possible to the coast and then take us from there. It might not seem like much of a distance difference, but with the number of us, it could be the factor between splitting our world apart and keeping it together long enough to save it."

"Wouldn't a plane be better?"

"Do you think we have time to book a flight, Romano?"

"Don't turn your fucking stupid questions back on me!"

The Englishmen opened his mouth, but Spain cut him off. "Don't mind him. He acts angry when he's upset."

"_Don't psychoanalyze me you dumb bastard! I'm just angry because I'm stuck in a car with all of you idiots!"_

Prussia reached over and physically restrained England. It was to the surprise of everyone in the car that he suddenly stopped struggling, eyes glued outside the car, mouth gaping. "What in the bloody hell...?"

* * *

_(1P!China)_

China stretched, folding his silk robe around him further. Night was falling over Shanghai, and he was nearly ready to retire after a long day. Tomorrow he would stay in Beijing but tonight, he would appreciate this city's skyline. Pulling back from the window, China's yawn died in its throat, his eyes locked on the sky above his sky scrapers. There, in wavering lines like watercolor, the northern lights danced. Which, frankly, was impossible, since he was almost certain there was no place in his country northern enough to see them.

Dread churned in his gut and he hurried over to his telephone. Dialing the number, he waited for it to ring a couple times and then only gave enough time to listen to the click telling him the other line had picked up before he was speaking.

"Japan," he gasped, "look out your window."

"What?" The Asian country asked, sounding vaguely baffled, but China was relieved to hear him padding through his house. "Why would you call _me_ of all people just me to look out my window?"

"First country I thought of around my latitude."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just look,"

China almost imagined he could hear the country's confusion radiating down the line, but Japan didn't say anything else. He could hear a slight intake of breath and knew that Japan had seen what he had.

"What _is_ that?"

"It looks like the northern lights."

"We're nowhere near high enough for that."

"I know. That's why I was wondering if you could see it. They're floating around Shanghai too and I'm assuming that's not my only city."

There was a pause and then... "Something's wrong?"

China shook his head. "I'm going to call some other countries and check in with them."

The two countries bid each other goodbye, too baffled to bring any of their usual ire into the conversation. If either had stopped to really think about it, then they might have realised it was one of the most civil conversations they'd had in years.

* * *

_(1P!All those people back in the car whose names I don't care to list just scroll back it's not that hard)_

They all looked at the sky for the rest of the short ride down to the coastline. Spain kept his eyes mostly on the road, but his eyes darted up periodically.

"Are you sure _mon petit_ is all right now, England?" France whispered.

England shook his head. "I think we should go straight to Matthew's cabin."

"This may be one of the only times we agree on something."

"Cazzo," Romano groaned, "The universe really must be splitting apart if you two are actually getting along for once."

"Just listen to your elders, you brat."

"Hey!

The car rolled to a stop, and the Englishmen reached over Prussia, opening the door and roughly ushering the other country out of the door, scrambling out after him. "Come on, all of you!"

The other countries piled out, convening around the short blond man, all of them fixing on the sky. England sighed, pulling down the cuffs of his shirt. "Let's ride, shall we, gentlemen?"

_(More to come...)_

1 I used google translate for this one and it's supposed to mean massive eyebrows so-

* * *

**AN: Okay! So that's it for now and I'm not sure when I'm going to update again. Probably not until after finals, to be honest. This semester has been especially heavy. However, because this has taken me so long to update, I'm planning to expand on my original plotline. I had planned for it to not be much longer than this, maybe even just a chapter, but because of how long I've left you all hanging, that doesn't really seem fair. I'm not sure how much longer, since I'm basically winging a plotline, but it's alright.**

**Jax: Once again, thank you to everyone. Trust me, every review, story alert, follower alert, some-other-super-duper-thing alert we receive really helps a lot and is highly appreciated. It's a great motivation for Sarah herself and so, we hope that you've enjoyed this chapter and feel free to review/follow/favourite/be awesome! Anyways, catch you guys later! **


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